


Breast of the Breast

by mthrfkrgdhrwego (universalchampbalor)



Series: The D is Silent [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling
Genre: Afab Seth, Alternate Universe - Trans, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gender Dysphoria, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Seth, M/M, Trans Female Character, Trans woman Roman, ask to tag, dean n finn are in the bg but whatever, idk - Freeform, trans author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 02:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15547578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universalchampbalor/pseuds/mthrfkrgdhrwego
Summary: I'm Tonyknees on Tumblr! Come bug me!





	Breast of the Breast

When Roman comes back to the room, she finds Seth wrapped up in approximately 7 blankets sobbing his eyes out.

Everything slows to a stop as she tries to process everything. She racks her brain for whatever could be causing this. Knee pain? Depression? There are too many variables she can’t keep track of. Part of her doesn’t  _ care _ what’s causing it, just cares about fixing it. This is someone she loves, someone she cares about, and he’s hurting. She needs to fix this.

She slips off her shoes and carefully shuts the door, tries not to make too much noise. Seth doesn’t seem to notice she’s in the room, or if he does, he’s too wrapped up in his sorrows to acknowledge her. His focus on what’s bothering him allows her to cross the room, allows her to crouch next to him, allows her to place a hand on his shaking shoulder.

He starts after a moment, eyes wide and puffy from crying. There are tear tracks running down to his collarbones and snot leaking from his nose. His nose is red and angry and his hair is matted.

“Hey, manamea. What’s wrong?” She asks softly. She manages to find his hand from within the mountain of blankets and holds it gently in hers, rolling the pad of her thumb over his knuckles.

“I’m wrong.” Seth mumbles, face half buried in the pillow. A few tears spill from his eye, running perpendicularly across the bridge of his nose. His voice is watery, thick, tripping over his adam's apple as he tries to speak. He takes a shuddery breath before devolving into sobs that break Roman’s heart.

“What do you mean, sweetie?” She asks softly. Seth is quiet for a long moment, sniffling and trying to stifle his crying. He stares unblinkingly at the wall, not responding to her soft touches and gentle questions.

After a few tense minutes, he sits up, letting the blankets pool at his waist. He’s wearing one of Roman’s large t-shirts from college, one that has holes in the hem and stains left from Dean. It hangs off his shoulder, revealing his bitten collarbone.

“I’m broken! I’m not…. _ right _ . I wasn’t  _ born _ like  _ you _ .” He explodes. Something stabs deep in Roman’s stomach, like a knife twisted in her gut. She has to take a moment to remind herself that  _ he doesn’t know. He doesn’t mean it like that. _

“What do you mean, you weren’t born like me, Seth?” She asks. She has a sinking feeling, feels like she knows what he means, taking his words and little things from the past (him never going shirtless, his insistence to wrestle clothed even after the Shield, his panic whenever they go near taking off his shirt or trying to slip a hand in his pants) into account. 

He turns his eyes on her and glares at her, eyes hard and narrowed. He’s still crying, and that makes it all the worse. “Get out.” His voice is hard, shaking, angry in a way she knows too well.

She opens her mouth to say something, but doesn’t get a syllable out before he shouts “Leave me alone! What the fuck don’t you understand about that?” He sounds desperate in a way she can’t handle, in a way that reminds her of years or stuffing bras and wishing she could just raise her voice enough to sound like a fucking  _ girl _ .

She leaves before he can see the tears in her eyes.   
||   
It comes to a head three days later. Seth hasn’t let Dean into their room, leaving him to crash in the other room. He hasn’t spoken to anyone, hasn’t left the room for all Roman knows.

Finn and Dean both try to talk Seth down, but he refuses to answer his phone and only tells them to fuck off when trying to talk through the door. So, it falls to Roman to deal with their finicky boyfriend.

She talks with the front desk and manages to get a keycard (Dean loses his immediately, so Seth is the only one with a working keycard to their room.) She also can’t believe the others didn’t think to try and get a keycard. She waits until she’s pretty sure Seth is sleeping and lets herself in.

Seth isn’t sleeping. Both beds are empty, and the blankets are a mess. There’s a stream of clothing leading to the bathroom. She decides, after a moment, to walk over to the bathroom. Steam is billowing from under the door, and Roman is sure the mirror has to be fogged up. She’s very familiar with the process.

She knocks a knuckle against the door, and when she doesn’t get a response, she asks if she can come in. 

No one answers.

She’s starting to get panicked, starting to feel choked, starting to panic about Seth’s depression and impulse control and self-destructive tendencies.

She enters the bathroom.

A wall of steam hits her like a tidal wave, hot and heavy and suffocating. She’s suddenly reminded of every shower she’s taken since she turned 26. The curtain to the shower isn’t pulled, revealing Seth sitting there in the tub, sitting in a pair of boxers as the water pours over him.

The first thing Roman notices is the red tint to Seth’s skin, left by the scalding water raining over him. The second thing she notices is that he’s definitely been crying if the redness of his eyes is anything to go by.

The last thing she notices is the swell of his chest into a pair of breasts.

He looks up at her and sobs, deep and gut-wrenching, curling in on himself to cover his chest. She hears him mumble words that sound like “ _ please go away, don’t look at me like this, they shouldn’t be here _ .” She can see him digging his nails into the plush skin near his nipples.

Before Roman can process what she’s doing, her shirt’s landed on the floor along with her sports bra. Her sweatpants and instantly soaks as she steps into the tub, realizing she’s crowding Seth’s space. 

She carefully grabs his hands, massages the tension out of his muscles, and presses them to her tits. It’s a little awkward, but it gets him to look at her with wide, questioning eyes.

“Seth, this took me three years of progesterone and estrogen. I’ve spent the last six years transitioning in silence.” She says softly, moving one hand to cup Seth’s jaw.

The angle of his eyelashes and the shadow of them clinging to his skin steals her breath. “You’re gorgeous. You’re handsome and masculine and you’re  _ enough _ . It doesn’t matter how you were born. It matters who you are.” She whispers, barely audible over the roar of the shower.

Seth surges up and kisses her, hands still carefully exploring her chest. He pulls away after a second and gasps against her lips, “Thank you. Fuck, thank you so much. Shit, I’m so glad I’m not fucking  _ alone _ .”

He sobs against her chest, and she holds him tight, lets him get it all out. They stay like that for what feels like hours, eventually getting out of the shower when their skin is pruned and raw and red with heat. Seth crumbles against Roman’s chest and thanks her as she struggles to dress him. Roman just shushed him and helps him into a sweatshirt and pajama pants and curls up with him in bed.

They end up with all four of them piled into the bed, cradling Seth like he was something precious to cherish.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Tonyknees on Tumblr! Come bug me!


End file.
